Super Nightmares
by JustAWriter101
Summary: Sam and Dean are on yet another hunting trip, but will Sam's sudden nightmares get the better of him and endanger the team? Maybe Castiel and Bobby can help, but what kind of monster is starting the dreams in the first place?. No Slash. Set somewhere in the first few seasons. POV switches between Sam and Dean. Possible Limp/Sick/Scared!Sam and Worried/Angsty/Great Big Brother!Dean
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1:

I woke up with a bump, and my head hitting the Impala's window so hard I could have smashed it. My body immediately adjusted itself into a proper upright sitting position, while my eyes glared sideways at Dean. The music was at a relatively low volume, so he was only humming subconsciously to Bob Dylan. I think he felt my eyes on him, because he turned to catch my fiery gaze burning him.

"Oh, good. You're up." He said casually, giving me a once over, before his eyes reverted back to the road.

"'Oh good you're up'?" I quoted with question. "Did you just run over a small child?"

"Don't be so melodramatic, Sammy. I mean, I know you were a 'theater kid' but-"

"Whatever" I shook my head, knowing how Dean drove after he had been at it for a while. "How long was I out?" Dean didn't take his eyes off the road as he shrugged.

"Not long enough. I'm tellin' you, Sam, those nightmares are taking a toll." I rolled my eyes, something I thought I wouldn't have to do, after dad passed.

"Look, Dean-"

"Don't 'Dean' me. Just rest up Sleeping Beauty, before I punch you hard enough to keep you out for a week."

"Jerk."

"B*tch."

I smiled and shook my head as I looked out the window, "How far's the next hotel?"

"Couple miles, it ain't bad now"

"I'll wait." I stated. It was a fairly normal conversation, but I have to admit, it bothered me he was on to the whole nightmares thing. I hadn't actually told him about those yet, so it was a little unsettling how much I gave away when I wasn't awake.

"Sam, you know, if you ever gotta… talk… about stuff like this…" The struggle in his voice was evident, - and I knew he was making a real effort to help me out - but that's the thing: I didn't want help. Dean didn't _need_ to watch out for me anymore. I was good. The nightmares weren't bad enough that they were going to push me to elucidate all my deep emotions to him as we drove to our next case. That sounded like a recipe for everything I'd like to avoid in our mediocre attempt at a professional relationship.

"Sammy." His rough voice snapped me out of my thoughts about what he had said; I guess I had forgotten to acknowledge he had said anything.

"Oh, uh, sorry. Thanks… Dean, but I don't need to… not now, anyway."

"More like you just plain can't talk. You're good? For sure?" Dean asked again. By then, it was safe to say I was irritated.

"I am good." I said sharply, enunciating each word. My smile I had had just minutes ago had faded and wasn't planning to return.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2:

I pulled up to yet another dingy motel that Sam and I were going to have to crash in for the night. It was only 1 am, and normally - being that the case was so close to Bobby's - I would have just kept driving until we got to his house. What stopped me was Sam. He was trying to stay awake until we found a place, but I could tell he needed sleep more than a fish needed water. When I put the car in park it seemed to jerk him out of his drowsiness: his head popped up, and his hand jerked toward where he usually kept a gun or knife when we were fighting. That concerned me. He snapped out of it just as soon as it came, but for him to reach for a weapon, I knew he was more than on edge.

"Woah there, Twitchy." I faced him and watched as his eyes and head caught up with reality.

"Why didn't you just drive to Bobby's?" He asked, looking around at the crumby old shack that was supposed to be a motel.

"Shut up. I'm tired." I lied. "Get your stuff, and let's go." I opened my door and sauntered over to the trunk to get my stuff. Sam got out lazily, his hand was on the top of the car as he shut his door with a yawn. "Want me to take your stuff in?" I asked, attempting to sound casual. I guess it was forced, I don't know. I thought it was pretty good. When I didn't hear him answer, I stood up straight to look at him; he was giving me one of those 'don't treat me like a child, jerk' looks. I put my hands up in mock surrender. "Fine, fine. Take your stuff in, but don't start getting moody with _me_." He rolled his eyes, something I didn't think he'd do again since dad had passed, then dragged himself over to the trunk as I schlepped my stuff over to the front desk to get a room.

Once I had spoken with the less than enthusiastic motel owner, I got the key and opened the door to our room. The inside was just as crappy as the outside, but it wasn't anything we weren't already used to. Sam took the bathroom over first, and after his shower, he flopped on his bed and looked like he wasn't going to get up anytime soon. I followed his lead soon after and fell into a deep sleep.

I heard a groan before dawn had broken.

It wasn't an annoyed groan… there was something else to it.

A sense of urgency? … _fear_?

I sat up in bed. "Sam?" I called out. The room was pitch black besides a slit of light from the window. Another groan came from the bed beside me. Of course, out of instinct, I assumed he was being attacked. I jumped out of bed and over to him. Once I determined he was alone, I evaluated what was happening. He was tossing and turning like a mad man, and to be honest, it scared me more than anything else I've ever seen. I managed to find his arms, and I held him down. He was thrashing so hard, it was beginning to be a challenge for me to keep him at bay.

"Sammy!" I attempted to wake him, but the line of light coming from the window revealed a fraction of his pained face that looked so deep into whatever it was in his head, that I knew I was going to need more than my voice to snap him out of it. Then I panicked. What if he wasn't _really_ alone? I began mentally listing off monsters that could attack you in sleep, then I thought about the possibility of possession. That last thought alone caused me to reach for the vile of holy water on the bedside table immediately and douse his face with it. He wasn't possessed, but that woke him up. The light from the window reflected off his eyes as they shot open. His body tried to lunge forward, but I still had him pinned down. His breathing was erratic, and I could almost hear how fast his ribcage expanded with each breath. His eyes shut for a minute, which was his way of striving to get a grip.

"Jesus." I mumbled. My hands let go of his wrists, and I got up to turn the lights on. When I did, it was clear Sam was in no condition to speak for the following few minutes. I walked over to my bed and sat on the edge facing him. For quite some time I just sat there watching his breathing return to normal as he pinched the bridge of his nose and scrunched his eyes shut. "Sam… what the hell was that?" I finally said. He turned to look at me like he had forgotten I was there. He quickly sat up and collected himself.

"N-nothing." He said simply, shrugging. He genuinely sounded like he thought it was no big deal. I, being his big brother, could tell it was an act.

"'Nothing'?" I asked, practically tasting the disbelief in my voice. "I just pinned your struggling body to the bed like some weird scene out of a Saw movie, and you're trying to pass it off as nothing?" He knew I sounded more than unsatisfied.

"Sorry…?" He looked for my reaction as if he was checking to see if I accepted that response.

"I don't want apologies, Sam. I want some damn answers!" My frustration with this kid was growing fast.

"Look, Dean, they're just nightmares-"

"No, Sam. A girl dreams about her boyfriend breaking up with her - that's just a nightmare. A boy has a dream that he breaks his leg and can never play baseball again - that's just a nightmare. Whatever _that_ was that I just witnessed… that was some Freddy Krueger crap!" Sam yawned, and his upper body swayed slightly. That's when I first realized how much of a problem these were becoming. "Sam." I wanted his attention back. He blinked a few times, before looking my way again.

"What, Dean?" He sounded as tired as he looked.

"How many hours sleep have you gotten? … and I mean collectively. This week." He closed his eyes as he shook his head.

"I-I… dunno…" He was having trouble staying with me. A fully rested Sam would have at least thrown a random number my way, but at that moment Sam seemed to have forgotten what a number was.

Seeing how tired he was, I decided to end the conversation with "Go back to sleep. I need you alert and hunting tomorrow." He seemed all too eager to agree, and he settled under the sheets before the lights were off again.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3:

Dean kicked the door down of the small house supposedly inhabited by a nest of vampires. The sound following the door hitting the ground was a ringing silence. It was too quiet. Dean turned to look at me with a confused expression, and I shrugged carelessly.

"Maybe they're not home...?" I offered, but he shook his head like he didn't believe that. It did seem a little too coincidental that a whole nest was outside the house the minute Dean and I showed up.

"Stay behind me." Dean instructed as he took a step inside. I shook my head.

"It would be smarter if we split up" I disagreed.

"No, Sam. I said stay behind me!" Dean ordered as he disappeared inside. I exhaled sharply and did as he pleased.

After scoping the main floor, we made our way into the basement. It was dark and moldy, and the air seemed thick with moisture. I grimaced as we walked down the stairs; this felt like a trap, but I didn't have any evidence to back that idea up.

As we both reached the bottom of the stairs, there was a small bang from something getting knocked over to the right of us. It was too far against the wall for it to have been knocked over by Dean or me. We both spun to that side and had our machetes ready in front of us. My breathing was a little faster than normal, a little more on edge. Dean seemed calm, but he always seemed calm. His brows were furrowed, and he was the first one to advance toward the noise's origin. I backed him up, looking around as I walked. Within seconds of moving, my legs were pulled out from under me. I was too exhausted to even realize what was happening until I hit the floor.

"Dean!" I yelled quickly as I got dragged to the other side of the room.

"Sammy!" I heard Dean shout in fear. "You let him go, you sonofab*tch!" Soon I was hoisted off the ground roughly and shoved against a wall. Two bloodshot eyes stared back at me. It was a girl; she was young and couldn't have been older than twenty-five. Her hair was a red-brown, and her lips were crimson. Her mouth turned into a devilish smile when she saw my eyes meet hers, and I could see her sparkling white vampire teeth inches from my face.

"Hello there, delicious." She greeted hungrily. Her hand came up to meet the side of my head, and when she brought a finger to her tongue, I could see it was coated with my blood. _Great. Another head injury._ The hand she had on my chest was too strong for me to squirm out from under, but it was becoming difficult to stand against the wall. _Where's Dean?_ I wondered drowsily. Despite the adrenaline that should have been pumping through my veins, I was growing more tired.

"Was that your brother?" She asked me, after a few minutes, "He seemed real upset… The boys took him upstairs."

"Boys?" I managed to say through my clenched teeth.

"You two did know this was a _nest_ right? There's six of us… and being that there's only two of you… well I guess that makes you outnumbered."

"We like a challenge." I fought to get out from under her force, but her hand moved to my neck in an attempt to suffocate me.

"Is that what you call this?" She asked me. "A challenge? ...I call it a dead end." I blinked a few times, I knew I was losing too much blood, and even if I managed to escape from her, there were five more male vampires upstairs with Dean. If she was this strong, the guys were stronger. I began praying for both my life and Dean's.

I suddenly heard a light flapping of wings followed by a monotone "Sam?" I glanced to the center of the room and saw Castiel standing there. He looked confused, and he was only making the vampire more angry.

" _Who_ is this?!" She demanded, tightening her grip on me.

"Sam. Where's Dean?" Castiel asked as he approached us, and his fingers made contact with the vampire's forehead; she dropped like a sack of lead.

"Cas…?" I felt my knees buckle as my back slid down the wall and lowered me to the floor.

"Sam?" Castiel kneeled beside me "You're injured." His image was blurred in my eyes, and it was becoming difficult to stay with the conversation.

"Go get Dean… upstairs." I told him. My speech was slurred, and man, was I tired.

"I'll be back." He promised, before disappearing. I closed my eyes for what felt like a second, and soon I felt a palm slapping my cheek lightly.

"Sam?! Sammy?! Come on, open your eyes!" It was Dean. When I opened my eyes slightly, I saw his face covered in blood and bruises. He seemed to be okay, despite it all. "That's it." He encouraged. "Cas," he turned to look toward the room's center. "You gotta help him."

"Dean, not when he's that weak. He's not well enough. I wouldn't know where to start." I felt my eyes close once again, followed by my brother's protests, but even _I_ was beginning to lose hope.

 **Please review and tell me how I'm doing so far! Thanks for reading!**


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4:

I carried Sam to the impala as fast as I could. Castiel helped me load him into the back seat, and seconds later, I was driving to Bobby's. Cas turned to me from the passenger seat. "What do you want to know?" He asked calmly.

"Everything. I want everything that's wrong with him." I was pushing eighty miles per hour and wasn't planning on slowing down.

Within seconds, Castiel was kneeling on the floor in front of the back seats that Sam was laid out on top of. We had managed to bandage his head, but he was going in and out of consciousness so quick that we couldn't get a word out of him. "His breathing's all over the place along with his heart rate. He's lost too much blood and… Dean?"

"What?" I wailed "Just tell me what's wrong! I don't need any Dr. Phil sugar-coating it crap!"

"How much sleep has he gotten?" I swallowed, and it felt like my throat was tightening up.

"Very little." I responded honestly. My voice was low and hoarse.

"He's exhausted and ill, Dean. If his body's going to heal on its own, it's going to need time."

I sighed, "He hasn't been able to sleep regularly, Cas." The angel turned to meet my eyes in the car's mirror; he looked puzzled.

"Why not?"

"He's been having nightmares… violent ones. I don't know what they are." Castiel looked down and seemed to zone out for a bit. "Cas, you with me?" I asked for confirmation, but he was gone. I sped up and looked at Sam in the back seat. He was reasonably pale, and I could see his chest rising and falling to a weird rhythm. He was mumbling things that were incoherent, and I wondered if he was having nightmares while he was unconscious.

"D'n." He garbled.

"Sam? I'm right here." He rolled on his side, and held his head with both hands like he was in pain. "Hang on, Sammy, we're almost to Bobby's." He moaned, - and I thought I heard him say 'hurry' - but I couldn't be sure.

When we got to Bobby's, I ran to the door and banged on it as hard as I could. Bobby finally answered and gave me a once over. "You look like hell, boy. You couldn't wash up before comin'?" He taunted.

"It's Sam." His playfulness immediately vanished.

"What's going on?" He asked nervously.

"Bobby, he's sick. I need your help." I admitted. After saying that, we both ran to the car and tried to coax Sam into the house. He fell to dead weight halfway there. "Sam, you gotta stay with me, here. I can't do this without you!" I begged. I was beginning to get desperate.

"Bobby? … Dean?" I heard him choke out.

"What, Sammy?" I asked. We had stopped walking.

"Down." He ordered. Bobby looked confused, but I wasn't.

"Bobby, let him down, quick!" I hollered. We both let Sam go as he got violently sick several feet away from the house. "Cas!" I shouted, "Where that hell are you?!" I kneeled beside my brother and told him we had to get him inside. He wasn't listening, and he looked ready to pass out again. "We gotta do this on our own." I explained to Bobby, "His legs won't make it any further." When Bobby nodded, I knew we were good to go. We carried him inside together and set him on the couch; that's when Castiel finally reappeared.

"He's gotten worse." He stated.

"Thank you." I spat sarcastically. "Wanna help or…?"

"Take his shirt off." Castiel commanded.

"Is this some kind of gay pleasure thing to you?" I asked irritably.

"His fever's 103.7. Take the shirt off." I had it unbuttoned and off in under a minute.

"What now?" I asked, looking at him worriedly.

"I've been asking around about the dreams."

"And?"

"He's never told you about them? Not one thing?"

"Never." I confirmed. "You were gone for forever and a day, and all you can do is ask me a stupid question?" I asked angrily. Bobby didn't seem to disagree with what I said, but I don't think he liked the way my frustration was boiling through my veins.

"Dean" He intervened. "Can I talk to you in the kitchen? Castiel, watch Sam." I got up and followed Bobby. Once we were in the small room, he promptly slapped me on the face.

"Bobby, what the-"

"You listen here, and you listen good." he started. "I don't think Sam is sick at all." I wanted to hit him back. Did he not see Sam puke in front of his house?

"How could you say that?" I asked with confusion and anger.

"These dreams… I've read about things like them… I think all this might just be one big side effect. I'm fairly confident he's havin' a nightmare right now." I turned and looked back to where Sam was on the couch. He seemed still, but what Bobby had said horrified me. Killer dreams weren't something Castiel could heal; they sounded more like something we hunted.

"What do we do?" I asked.

"You and Cas ain't gonna like this…" I looked away from his eyes before urging him to continue regardless, "We have to wake him up and keep him up, until we get to the bottom of this thing." I wanted Sam to sleep more than anyone in the room. I had been with him prior days before and had seen how these nights without sleep were practically sucking the life from him.

"I don't know about that, Bobby… " I confessed.

"Didn't I tell you you weren't gonna like it at first, you idjit? That ain't the point. It's sleep or Sam. Which one?"

I nodded slowly and marched back into the living room. "Cas, we gotta wake him up." I said firmly. Bobby made his way into the room and stood beside me.

"Dean-" Castiel got ready to argue.

"We gotta, Cas, or he might not wake up again." I told him. With that, I advised Castiel and Bobby to go get some ice water. If water was what woke him up before, it should have be able to do it again.

I was kneeling beside Sam as I waited. He was pale, and his cheeks were flushed. He looked like he had your everyday average flu. My hand instinctively wiped the sweat-soaked bangs from his forehead. He was warm… really warm. That's when Bobby and Cas returned.

"Bobby, he's burning up" I said with worry as I stood.

"I know. All the more reason to dump this on him." I stood back, "It's holy water… just in case." I nodded to them and watched as the water splashed over Sam's skin. He shivered, before his eyes opened.

"D'n… what 'appened?" He turned on his side and held his head just like he had in the impala. "Head hurts." He stated with a wince. I looked over at Bobby and Cas who seemed just as lost as I was with the whole situation.

"We got in a fight with some vamps, and you were down for the count." I explained, "We're at Bobby's now. You're gonna be okay, Sammy." His eyes shot over to me, and when I saw him, it was the most alert he had been in days.

"What time is it?"

"Why-" I began, but he sat straight up, and I lost the question somewhere on its way from my brain to my mouth. Sam looked at the clock and sprung to his feet.

"Slow down there, Kiddo." I heard Bobby caution.

"Where are the guns? The ones you pre-loaded with silver bullets?" He asked Bobby.

"Sammy!" I yelled at him to get his attention, to snap him out of it, but he wasn't listening.

"The closet. Right." I felt the color drain from my cheeks. Bobby and I were the ones that had loaded those a while ago. Sam was out on a food run at the time. He wouldn't have known that.

"How'd you know that?" Bobby asked him as Sam stumbled his way over to the closet and grabbed a gun. He got ready to shoot and crouched down with gun pointed at the front door.

"Are you even listening to us, Sam?" I growled.

"Ten… Nine…" He counted under his breath

"Sam!" He didn't even acknowledge me, he just kept counting. I looked at Bobby and Castiel. Bobby looked muddled and concerned, while Cas just watched intently with little to no expression.

"Three… Two… One." At that second, a werewolf pounced into the room, breaking the door down. My jaw dropped as Sam cocked the gun and killed it with one bullet. He was breathing heavily, like that had taken something out of him. I ran next to him and took a knee to feel his forehead.

"Guys, he's warming up pretty fast."

"How'd you know that would happen?" Castiel asked Sam as Bobby went to the kitchen to get a cool compress.

"It was in my dream." Sam stated through shallow breaths. "So was the vampire attack… that's why it felt so weird in there… like a trap… I couldn't tell why… It wasn't a trap, though… they didn't even know we were coming… But I knew about them… I-I knew."

"Cas, what's his temp?" I asked. Seconds later Castiel had his hand on Sam's forehead. My brother leaned into his cool touch.

"104. It shouldn't be this high, Dean. His body doesn't seem to be fighting off a human illness."

"Then what is this?!" I asked loudly. Bobby replaced Castiel's hand with the compress. When the angel didn't give me an answer, I turned to Bobby. "You said you read about this, right? Then what are the dreams? We killed the yellow-eyed demon. These were gone, remember?"

"Boy, when I said I read about them I was talking about back then, back when the visions were getting bad" Bobby stated, like I should have put that together.

"You mean to tell me your only theory is that these dreams are the same psychic ones he was having when the demon was still alive?!" I asked for confirmation.

"Don't raise your voice at me, look at him!" I reluctantly looked at Sam who was leaning heavily against the closet door with Castiel beside him.

"It doesn't make sense, Bobby." I said. "The visions and nightmares didn't do this to him before. There were no side effects."

"Which is why I don't think this is natural. It isn't something that's in his blood."

"You're losing me here." I admitted.

"This is a spell. Someone has it out for Sam. They're probably mad about how you killed the yellow-eyed demon in the first place." I sprung to my feet.

"Cas, help me look for a hex bag in the impala." I didn't know about a spell that could do that to someone, but I knew a person with experience in the field of witchcraft would have no problem finding one.

"Wait Dean." Bobby stopped me, "Help me bring Sam into our little 'panic room'" When I looked down at Sam, his eyes were closing, and he was shaking uncontrollably.

"What's going on?"

"Another nightmare is coming on, I assume." Bobby stated.

"Should we try to keep him awake?" I asked.

"Wait, Dean, allow me to possess your brother, while he sleeps." Castiel offered before Bobby could answer, "I would see what these nightmares are, and perhaps, I could help." I was apprehensive at first, but after realizing we had no other beneficial option, I agreed.

I swallowed roughly "Okay, Cas, but one condition."

"Of course."

"Take me with you."

 **Still in need of reviews :) Tell me if I'm doing good, bad, or mediocre.**


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5:

I was having that nightmare again.

After taking on the vampires, I went to Bobby's. Of course, minutes after arriving, Bobby was attacked by a werewolf right in front of the closet, where he had previously stashed the guns. I ran over to the beast that had him pinned down.

"Bobby, grab the guns!" I shouted. I tackled the werewolf and wrestled with him into the kitchen.

This was how I had been attempting to fix things all the other times I had had the nightmare. I was in an endless cycle: always making the same decisions, always being in the same circumstances. Except in all my previous dreams, I didn't wrestle for long. I'd wake up in a cold sweat or drenched in holy water. At the motel with Dean, I didn't remember anything I had dreamt, but the more I slept since then, the more vivid the dreams were in my memory. Then, they began to come true.

The werewolf threw me against the door, and I felt my shoulder hit the wood with a bang. Bobby was gone from the dream, so that was how the dreams were supposed to end: Bobby wouldn't save the day with those guns. I would die.

Then there was a knock at the door.

Granted, I had never made it this far in the dream, but even I knew there was something going on. This was it. It was supposed to be when the werewolf charged me from where he stood, across the room, and killed me. I was fairly certain of my fate, but the knock indicated there was more that was out of the norm.

"Who's there?" I asked shakily, my eyes still on the werewolf staring me down.

"Castiel… and Dean." My heart skipped a beat. They weren't supposed to be there. This wasn't their dream, and they sure as hell weren't going to die in mine.

"Go away, you'll get killed." I told them firmly.

"Sammy, you're dying." Dean stated quickly through the door I was leaning against. "I'm pretty sure a witch hexed you. This dream is going to be the death of you. Open up." The werewolf seemed angry when Dean spoke. It did just what I thought it would: it charged me.

I jumped out of the way and screamed "Guys, stand back!" just before the monster's body broke through the door. Soon after that, Dean was helping me to my feet.

"Fill me in." He directed.

"It's a repeated dream. I've never made it this far, but I've been making it up to the werewolf attack portion of it for a few nights now, apparently. I think I was supposed to die right there." I watched Castiel toss Dean and me guns from the closet.

"How do we stop it?" Dean asked. "Kill the thing outside?"

"I don't know, but that seems a little easy don't you think?" I asked.

"I agree." Castiel chimed in. "If Sam is hexed, we need to find the bag."

"We don't know that." Dean spat at Castiel. "Sam, have there been any hints about who's doing this to you? Maybe even people you could randomly guess would want to?"

"None - Except Yellow-Eyes - who we smoked a while back." Right at that moment, the ground began to rumble. "Dean, Cas and you should leave. Find that bag. Now." I demanded as the rumbling got more intense.

"You want us to leave now? Are you nuts? Try not to go all suicidal on me, here." My brother disagreed.

"Dean, this is a dream. It won't end until I wake up- Ah!" I winced and closed my eyes as I dropped to my knees. My head was pounding so hard it felt like I was being kicked in the temples. Sure, the dreams gave me headaches, but not like that.

"Sam? Sammy?! You with me?" I heard Dean right beside me, grasping my shoulder tightly to support my frame.

"I'm okay." I strained out. "It's just… my head."

"Your head? What about your head?" The ground was still shaking underneath us, and it wasn't helping my head at all. I felt Dean's hands pushing my hair out of the way to look for cuts. He didn't get what I meant.

"Headache." I told him. "Really bad."

"Dean?" Castiel said from a distance. When I opened my eyes, I saw him by the doorway.

"What, Cas? What?" Dean sounded frustrated. Every word he said cut through the air in its path.

"Demons. At least a dozen. They're shaking the ground as they walk." He sounded mesmerized, and I could only guess how menacing they all must have looked. Dean stood to look out the window, and by his face, I knew Castiel wasn't lying… or exaggerating.

"Wait. Sam, this is an _exact_ replica of Bobby's place, right?" Dean asked without taking his eyes off the scene outside.

"I-I think so- God!" I hunched forward. It was like my headache had cranked up three notches.

"Cas, we gotta get him into the safe room."

"Agreed. The demons are making their way, and the closer they get, the more pain they seem to be inflicting on Sam." Castiel said. I let a scream escape my lips as a particularly large amount of pain washed over me. I wrapped my hands securely around the back of my head, so my elbows were touching inches away from my nose.

"I'm good staying here, guys" I assured, mainly because I didn't want to get up and move with the pain I was in.

"Shut up, Sam." I heard Dean mumble under his breath as he pulled me up with Castiel. Cas erased the angel symbols from the walls of the panic room in my mind, and together they tossed me on the bed. My pain didn't subside, in fact, it was getting significantly worse. The screams were coming more frequently then. "This is _your_ dream, Sammy." Dean shook my bicep in an attempt to get my attention. "Take control." He told me. He was right. It was _my_ head, after all.

"I can't." I forced through my teeth, "I've been trying for the last few dreams… You guys have to wake me up… There's no other way… " Even though my eyes were shut tight, I heard Dean shift to look at Castiel.

"Those demons… does that mean Sam's possessed by several of them?"

"When we poured the holy water on him, he had no reaction." Castiel reminded him. So it seemed I just had demons coming and going from my head as they pleased. There was a long silence. Dean was the one to break it.

"We first suspected hex bags and witchcraft… who says a demon can't cast a spell? I mean, if they can make deals, then they can cast spells, right?" I was rolling from side to side on the bed. I was glad they knew my body was being attacked, because I would have looked like a total baby otherwise.

"Maybe they made a deal together." Castiel suggested. I could feel his nervous eyes on me as he spoke.

"Sh*t!" I yelled as my body was thrown off the bed and against the room's wall. I dropped to the ground with a thud.

"That would be a 'yes'." Dean confirmed.

"I don't think the demons like that we're on to their plans." Castiel said.

"No kidding." Dean said as he made his way over to me and checked my writhing body for injuries. It was only a dream, but when it came to monsters, you never knew what would carry over into the real world. "So what then? We have some demons who are 'team-Yellow Eyes' and wanna take revenge by torturing Sam to death in his sleep."

"That appears to be our prime explanation, yes." Castiel affirmed.

"Well don't beat around the bush, Castiel" Dean huffed out.

"Why would I brutally slash shrubbery?"

"Jesus." Dean and I sighed out together. If I wasn't in extreme pain, I probably would have laughed.

Then, out of no where, the door of the safe room blasted off the hinges. The devil traps and symbols slowly leaked away from the walls, and all twelve demons entered the small room. We were cornered, and I was convinced my pain had reached its maximum point.

 **Hope you're enjoying it! I'm loving the follows reviews and favorites!**


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6:

6 demon men and 6 demon women versus 1 ½ hunters and an angel. It seemed like we were toast, but it wouldn't have been the first time the odds weren't in our favor, and we pulled through. Castiel and I simultaneously took a step back towards Sam, who we were now shielding. He was howling in pain, and I was pretty sure his fever in the real world would have been over 110.

"Who are you?" Castiel spoke first.

"Demons." A woman from the front of the mob answered.

"He means why are you doing this, you b*tch!" I shouted at her. I couldn't help it; I was more than indignant. Following my shout, another girl, not looking much different than the one who spoke, came to the front of the crowd and raised her hand. The simple action evoked a heart-wrenching scream from my little brother. I turned to look at his pained expression for a split second, before turning back to look at the demon controlling it. "Hey!" I roared. "You're gonna quit that right now, or so help me, I will break every bone in that weak little body of yours, you hear me?!"

"Dean." Cas tried to calm me quietly, but I figured intimidation was the only way we were going to get through to those bums.

"Listen to him." The original speaker told the demon beside her. "Let the boy's brother be. For now." When the demon's hand lowered to her side, I heard Sam's screams cease. I turned once again to look back at him: his breathing was heavy and uneven, and the sheen of sweat on his brow was making me concerned with what Sam's condition was like with Bobby in the real world. For a minute, I even wondered if Sam was going to make it out of his own dream. "Now, " She continued. "I suppose you know why we're here."

"Ya know, I think I might have a hunch." I told her. "I mean, I'm just pulling at straws here, but-"

"But nothing." She interrupted, "You assume we are here to avenge the Yellow-Eyed demon's death. Yes?" I looked over at Castiel who gave a nod of encouragement.

"That seems logical. Yeah." I agreed. I decided to give all the demons a once over. The ones in the back were men… Big men. The ladies were in the front - and to be honest - aside from the one talking, it seemed like they all wanted to kill me. It wasn't a surprise, but it kept me on my toes.

"Well you're wrong." She smirked. I heard one demon in the back laugh and mumble "shocker", but I couldn't tell which one it was when my head snapped up to glare at them.

"Well then enlighten me, oh devilish one." I pressed. She didn't seem amused.

"Maggie," She corrected. "and Yellow Eyes was fulfilling a duty, one involving your brother. The one with the visions."

"That was a duty?" I asked with disbelief. "I thought it was a stupid curse."

"Well, it wasn't _his_ idea. It was Lucifer's." My head shot over to look at Castiel, who looked just as nervous as I felt on the inside.

"Lucifer? Like… _Satan_ , Lucifer?" I clarified.

"The one and only." She sent me a smile. "You see, 'Yellow Eyes' was his right hand man for his big 'End of Worlds' plan. We were all next in the running for that spot, but Lucifer didn't pick us."

"Rough. You should go vent to all the chubby elementary kids getting picked last for dodgeball. I'm sure they'll understand." I faked sympathy. After that, Maggie instantly snapped her fingers, and the pain-controller demon stepped forward once again. I heard Sam seconds later wrenching violently. The room began to literally blur around us.

"What's happening?" I asked Cas.

"It's Sam. They're killing him, he won't be able to hold onto the dream if he's dead." The angel explained quickly.

"Stop it!" I yelled. "I'm sorry, alright?! Just stop hurting him!" The room slowly returned to normal along with Sam's mental form. He had at least stopped attempting to cough his guts up.

"Very good." Maggie applauded. "See how that works? You're nice, and your brother lives."

"Yeah, got it." I said with annoyance.

"Sam's weak right now." She stated, "Did you see how the symbols disappeared off the walls when we came in? … This may be Sam's dream, but he's not strong enough to cast us out. We have control over scenery, situation… and most importantly, your brother."

"Okay Okay" I said. "I get it. 'You have absolute power'"

"That's right." She grinned. "Now, as I was saying, Lucifer wanted Ol' Yellow Eyes to keep Sam alive at every cost. He is very important to his overall plan; however, now that you killed the protector… that leaves Sam as fair gain…"

"And if Satan wants him alive, you want him dead, because he didn't pick you as his main slave." I filled in the blanks.

"More or less." Maggie shrugged, "Call it a rebellion of sorts."

"I don't want to call it anything." I told her. "If I had to, though, I'd call it bullsh*t! You're not gonna kill Sam. Satan's the almighty god to you pieces of filth. You wouldn't want to mess with him. Not unless you want to die."

"He's also locked in a cage in hell," Maggie informed, "and he won't be able to get out if your brother's dead."

"What does that mean?" I asked with disgust.

"I told you. He's a _big_ part of Lucie's plan."

"Sam's not going to free Satan from hell." I swore. "Why would he." She laughed, and advanced toward Castiel and me.

"Boys, boys, boys. We're just not going to agree, here, now are we?"

Castiel seemed hesitant, but I answered almost immediately: "I guess not." She turned to stare at me.

"Oh, Dean. I tried to convince you. Your brother is a bomb… and it's only a matter of time before he blows. Disable him now, or take your life with his."

"I'm gonna go with what's behind door number two." I hissed back at her. She raised her arm and threw me against the wall.

"Now, Cas!" I yelled. It was time to fight.

I heard Castiel's sword slash through the other demons as I fought of Maggie. She was strong, but soon I had her in a headlock. I pulled the demon blade from my pocket, and jabbed it into her gut. The next thing I was greeted with was Sam's scream. Cas was fighting off two demons, but one still remained by the door with no one fighting her. She had her eyes locked on Sam, and judging by the way he was squirming, she was inflicting some serious pain.

I jumped on her in seconds, tackling her to the ground as it began to blur under our feet. I held her arms behind her back, and when Castiel was through with his fight, he finished mine by stabbing her roughly. As the demon bodies vanished from the dream, so did the scenery.

"Cas, what's going on. Is he waking up?" I asked.

"Or worse." He said simply. "We have to get out of here and help him. That demon was working on him for a couple minutes while we were fighting."

"You mean he could be-"

"Let's hope not."

~SPNSPNSPNSPNSPN~

I woke up in my real body at Bobby's "It's good to be back." I muttered as I sat up. Then I remembered… Sam! I quickly got up and made my way to the kitchen where I assumed Bobby would have Sam tied to the table or a chair. "Bobby!" I called as I stepped into the room.

I looked around. The place was absolutely ransacked: cabinets were splintered, the table was split down the middle, and if I had a nickel for every broken plate, I could have become the new Donald Trump.

Bobby and Castiel were surrounding Sam's body that laid sprawled out on the floor. "What happened here?" I asked Bobby as I made my way over to them.

"Your brother happened." He said dryly. "He was getting thrown all over the place - floor, wall, ceiling. You name it, he smashed into it. What was going on in that boy's head?" I could tell Castiel had been reluctant to give information to Bobby when I was still out of it. He wasn't exactly a man of many words anyway.

"Twelve demons. All of which wanted Sam dead in an attempt to rebel against Lucifer." Bobby shot me a baffled look. "I don't know, man. It was as complicated as a Stephanie Meyer plot." He shrugged it off. "So what's it been like here."

"Two ice baths, one hour of attempting to toss cookies, and the rest of the time was him screaming in pain and becoming a Cirque Du Soleil star in my kitchen." Bobby recapped.

"Sounds like a bundle of fun."

"Oh sure. A real hoot and a half." Bobby said with 100% sarcasm.

"What now?" I asked. There was a puddle surrounding Sam on the floor from his ice-bath-soaked clothes and hair. He was shivering and sweating at the same time, and his red cheeks were the only hint of color in his body. Except… "Is that blood on his lips?"

"When I said he was trying to 'toss cookies' I meant coughing up blood." Bobby elucidated.

"Oh, lovely." I said.

"Cas said he seems to be coming around, but I don't know." He said honestly. "He was in real bad shape." Castiel finally stood with us, "I lowered his temperature slightly, and he seems to be showing signs of improvement, but as I said before, he needs rest."

"I'll take rest over and exorcism any day." I said plainly. "Hey, Cas… you think there'll be other demons like that… or maybe even angels… that'll want Sam… dead?"

"I can't be sure." Castiel gave me a look of uncertainty, "If Maggie was telling the truth about Lucifer's plan, then I wouldn't doubt it." I nodded.

"Do you think she was?" I asked. Cas only shrugged.

"It's Sam, Dean. Don't forget that. He will make the decision that he thinks is best if that time comes." I nodded again, and helped Bobby bring Sam to bed.

 **What do you think? Maybe one more chapter? End it here? Let me know if you liked it or hated it. Thanks for reading!**


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7:

I woke up to a small stinging sensation in the lower section of my left arm. My body jerked awake, and I drew my fist back, ready to strike what was attacking me. When my brain caught up with my surroundings, my eyes met a slightly startled Dean looking up at me. I wasn't in the panic room or cornered by demons. I was at Bobby's, but I was in bed… and was my hair wet?

"Woah, woah, woah, Sammy. It's just me." He let go of my arm in an attempt to prove his harmlessness. "I'm just stitching you up, it's okay. You're going to be okay now." He assured with a slow nod. "Want me to finish?" I saw the thread and needle hanging from my sliced skin.

"Uh… y-yeah. S-sorry." My fist unclenched, and I lowered my arm beside me onto the sheets.

"You good?" He asked warily. I gave myself a mental evaluation. Besides the fact that every part of my body seemed to be shaking, I was fine, so I nodded. "You sure?" He asked, leaning forward in an effort to catch my eyes.

"Yes, Dean, I'm sure." I said with a stronger voice than before. He looked physically satisfied with my response, and he grabbed his needle to finish the job.

"What happened there?" I asked, jerking my chin toward the cut.

"You decided you wanted to pull a Mr. Miyagi with every glass item in Bobby's kitchen." He answered. I winced, had I really been _that_ bad while I was out of it?

"Yikes." I said with a grimace. He felt the need to look up at me after that. "What?" I asked, finally meeting his eyes.

"Nothing." He answered too fast. He collected himself a little before talking again "I mean, ...nothing. It's just… you're shaking like a leaf." I tried to stop, but it wasn't an easy task. "It's kinda Bobby's fault." He smirked. "I was gonna dry you off and change you into some new clothes after two of Bobby's ice baths, but he convinced me to let you keep the little pride you have left."

"Thanks, Bobby." I smiled to myself and looked down. I could feel the blush rushing into my face. Dean laughed quietly after that, and I knew he saw my embarrassment too. "So, uh, where is Bobby?" I asked to change the subject.

"Downstairs cleaning up with Cas."

"Did I destroy the place?" Dean finished stitching and looked me up and down.

"Just the kitchen." He downplayed it.

"Oh, well, if it's _just_ the whole kitchen." I faked carelessness. "I should go help."

"No way." Dean insisted "I want you to stay here with me, got it?" I couldn't help but nod. Being the big brother - whether I liked it or not - he had a good amount of authority over the decisions I made. He was able to alter more than he knew.

"Hey, uh… Dean?" I asked.

"What?"

"Why didn't you just have _Cas_ heal me?" He was putting the supplies back into the first aid kit, and paused for a second to answer before continuing.

"I wanted to do it." He stated nonchalantly with a shrug. I let that sink in before it was his turn to change the subject. "You are 100% sure you feel okay? You feel like _you_?"

"I'm not even sure how to answer that last part." I admitted. Of course I felt like me. "Yes? I guess."

"Just making sure you're fine." He said. "How much do you remember?"

"It's mostly pain." I shrugged. "The memories kinda fade in and out of the dream and real world." Then I recalled something "Oh God, Bobby's table." I sighed, covering my face with my hands.

"Anything specific?" He seemed to be getting at something, but I wasn't connecting the dots.

"No, Dean. Why?" I sounded more accusatory than I did curious, but I couldn't help it.

"Nothing. Don't get all touchy." He stood and placed the kit on a shelf across the room.

"Dean." That time I sounded fed up.

He sighed, "What the demon said, Sam…" I reached back into my memories of the nightmare and ventured into the part of my mind that held the dialogue between the demons and Dean. I really only remembered pain, it was hard to make out what had happened in my head.

"It's all pretty fuzzy…" I told him.

"She…" He paused, looking down and pursed his lips trying to figure out how to word something. "She said Lucifer has plans for you… They're specific plans, Sammy. To be honest, they're scarin' the hell outta me." I gulped. _Specific plans? Lucifer?_ None of it sounded good.

"Demons lie, Dean." I reminded him, but he didn't seemed pleased with that response.

"Not always." He rectified. "Especially this one. She had nothing to lose. She was rebelling anyway…" He was talking like it was only him in the room, as if I wasn't there at all. These were the thoughts he usually didn't let me hear, so there had to be something bigger he was keeping from me.

"What were the plans?" I asked curiously.

"I don't know." He obviously lied "She kept that much to herself."

"Why do you do that?" I asked with exasperation. I let my back fall onto the mattress and my head onto the pillow.

"What?" He asked cluelessly.

"Lie." He immediately looked uncomfortable. "I mean, come on, Dean. We're nothing if not honest with each other."

He sighed before surrendering "She said… She said you were going to be the one to free Satan from hell…" That made me sit right back up.

"What? That- That's insane! I mean… Why would I free Lucifer? She's gotta be lying, Dean… She's-"

"Hold on, not so fast. I know it makes no sense, that's why I'm just giving you a quick check in. You sure you feel fine?"

"Y-yeah. 100%." I said for sure. I didn't feel any different than usual.

"Okay… Okay, Sam, I believe you." He nodded. "Even if she was telling the truth… and something does end up happening… we'll beat it. We'll be alright, like always."

"What if… I end up…"

"We'll cross that bridge when we get to it. I just need you to make sure you're staying on the right track."

"I will." I promised. "That won't happen." He nodded once more, and then stood.

"Get some rest." He smirked, "We have hunting to do in the morning." With that, he left the room.

 **I think this will be the end due to the fact all of you know how Sam ends up. I'm up for suggestions on a new SPN story, though. Tell me what you thought of this one with a review. Thanks for reading!**


End file.
